


just give me trust & anything can happen

by iriswests



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Cheesiness, Childhood Friends to Lovers, M/M, idk what to tag anymore i'm too old for this, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriswests/pseuds/iriswests
Summary: Matteo’s recently broken up with his boyfriend, and it’s making it very difficult for the rest of the guys to find a place he doesn’t feel sad going to. Enter David, Matteo’s best friend since childhood, ready to lift Matteo’s spirits by visiting all of these places and promising to create new, better memories for Matteo.What Matteo’s forgotten is how many memories of these places already belong to David, and just how much has happened in the in-between.





	just give me trust & anything can happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strangetowns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetowns/gifts).



> you might be wondering, “ceecee, what the fuck, what are you doing writing 12k words of davenzi? don’t you literally have a wip waiting for you to come back after three years?”
> 
> for your answer: yes
> 
> i will expand: i can’t help what i write or when i write it and that’s how inspiration works, my friends. also how self-loathing works, believe it or not. also, this is exclusively a VERY LATE birthday present for one of the most talented and wonderful individuals in the entire world ever, [sarah](https://canonicallyanxious.tumblr.com/), so they deserved this!!! read their stories and tell me they didn’t deserve this and i’ll call you a liar!!!
> 
> i’m a little out of it right now, forgive me. new meds, and whatnot. good news is i’m writing this much again, which means i’m writing tmtts again, in short spurts, in between prompts y’all send me that i love so very much 
> 
> i asked sarah if berlin inaccuracies would bother them and they said no, so here’s the deal, fam: there’s probably a shit ton. like, i made 95% of these places up, i know very little about germany, and i’m so tired of the research that turns up for me being contradicted in another site that i just had to stop before it exploded my mind.
> 
> is skeeball something they play in arcades in germany? for matteo and david! do arcades even have play places if they’re not chuck e. cheese or peter piper? poof, now they do! are kebaps actual popular german cuisine? they are now. how many rollable hills are there in berlin? at least one, if this story has any say in it! is there an abandoned hospital with an abandoned pool inside it for absolutely no reason? my words have made it so!
> 
> that’s right, i also made a hospital have a pool. what of it? let me live, it’s fiction 
> 
> in fact, *all* of this is fiction and like 90% of it is probably geographically wrong but here’s the truth of it: i wrote it for sarah so if they enjoy it, then i won
> 
> and if you enjoy it too, then i won TWO TIMES, which is more than winning once, and it’s great! i’m sorry if small inaccuracies take you out of the story, but such is life when reading free fiction
> 
> i love y’all lots, this is way too long. but my love for you is IMMENSE, like you have no idea. like, if it could fill out an entire stadium, it would, and then some, and then some more. there are infinite universes, and they can’t even fit my love for y’all. they can’t. they can try, but they’ll all collapse and fail.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH! I’M SO OUT OF IT AND I’M SO SORRY AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC WRITTEN ESPECIALLY FOR YOU <333

There’s a stain on the very edge of Matteo’s wall that he’s been having a hard time figuring out.

It looks like a shapeless blob, while simultaneously managing to look like a purposeful masterpiece, and the color’s a faded sort of gray, still able to contrast his wall’s loud yellow.

(Yellow’s the color the room was painted when he moved in. He hasn’t had the chance nor, frankly, the energy, to repaint it. It is, truly, one of the most upsetting colors he’s ever laid eyes upon in his entire life, and Matteo’s usually a _fan_ of yellow.)

He’s spent the better part of an hour constructing this faded gray stain into different, unintelligible shapes, such as, but not limited to: a bunny without an ear, one of those foam fingers people like to use at sporting events, a one-strap dress, and a misguided attempt at putting together an Academy Award. Matteo is very proud of his imagination so far, considering his mind’s been shutting down more often than not nowadays.

He gets it. He’s seen Hanna go through the same thing, the one time she and Jonas broke up. And, come to think of it, Jonas, too, though his reaction was far more self-destructive than Matteo’s reaction has been so far: though he supposes he’s not an objective party on the matter, by any means. Still, Jonas coped with his break-up by drinking and hooking up with different people every other day and writing angry songs he never sang in public, instead choosing to sing the slow, heartbreaking ones that would, fittingly, help him get laid.

Matteo’s been dealing with his break-up by staying locked up in his room and refusing to revisit any of the places he and The Man Whom Shall Henceforth Never Be Named Again – _The Man_ for short – had ever had a good time in. It’s just not helpful, Matteo insists. It brings about painful emotions that he’s not equipped to handle, and so it’s better for everyone if he just stays in, listens to Hozier on repeat (David’s influence, if you’re wondering) and pretends nothing is wrong by staring at a stain on his horribly misguided yellow wall.

Despite this, he’s not surprised at all when, after a single half-hearted knock, the door to his room swings open from behind him, hitting the wall as harshly as it was thrown. Matteo sighs deeply and closes his eyes, knowing that pretending to sleep has never worked out for him, but unable to come up with any other excuse to ignore the incoming onslaught of questions he doesn’t want to answer.

“I know you’re not asleep,” David says from behind him, but Matteo continues to pretend, anyway. He wonders if he can keep it up long enough for David to leave him to his misery.

(He probably can’t.)

He feels the empty side of his bed dip with the weight of another, fittingly angling Matteo even further downward, near where his self-esteem currently houses itself on the floor. His eyes remain closed, even when David scoots closer to him, enough so that he feels the warmth of his best friend’s body mingle with his own, but not quite close enough so that they’re touching, which Matteo is sure David’s doing on purpose to get a rise out of him.

It’ll probably work soon enough, considering Matteo instinctively wants to reach out and allow David to hold him, the physical contact between them so natural since they were children (even though there’d been a lull, there, for a year or so, when they were breaking into thirteen) that it feels _weird_ and _wrong_ to be this close without touching.

“Matteo,” David clicks his tongue. “Can you fake-wake up, please?”

Matteo grunts. He hears David sigh.

“Don’t make me say this behind your back.”

“This is strange,” Matteo mutters, eyes still closed and back still to David. “I could have sworn I sent a message to the group chat explicitly saying I would not be going with you guys to get kebaps, and yet.”

“That’s what I’m here about,” David explains, still not touching Matteo. “I’ve been designated as the messenger, and as the messenger, I have something for you.”

Matteo grunts again.

“A message,” David explains unnecessarily.

Matteo buries his face into his pillow. “No thank you.”

“I’ve been told to get the message to you despite any and all obstacles.”

“I wish you acted like you liked me more than them,” Matteo says. “We were friends first.”

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t like you,” David points out, and Matteo holds back a groan, because he knows David’s right. His best friend has this irritating habit where he does things specifically because he _cares_ about Matteo, and Matteo rarely has any witty comebacks or successful avoidance techniques when he does this, because David’s just so good at caring about him it’s impenetrable. David often knows what Matteo needs before Matteo does, and, fairly, the opposite applies, as well.

“The rest of the guys are as worried as I am,” David continues, most likely taking Matteo’s silence for what it half-was – resignation. “I know you were dating A—”

Matteo’s eyes open in a flash and he twists his upper body into an uncomfortable position in order to glare at David before he finishes that sentence. David, looking as impeccable as always for someone who swears up and down he spends less than five minutes in front of the mirror each day, rolls his eyes, but seems to understand and concede to Matteo’s point.

“I know you were dating That Guy for nearly a year, and I know that there’s never a time-limit on heartbreak,” he continues. “And you should never feel pressured to get over someone before you’re ready, and we’re all here for you, etcetera etcetera, but—” here, David’s pause seems rehearsed, as does his succeeded sigh and the rise of his eyebrow. Matteo’s known him long enough to know he likes to script his talking-tos down to the gestures, and he’s known him longer still to know when said gestures are natural or not. “There is something to be said about you avoiding almost all of our hang-out spots because they remind you of him, or of something that happened between the two of you there, and it bringing about, and I quote, ‘painful emotions you’re not equipped to handle’.”

“Yes,” Matteo agrees. “And what there is to be said is that it’s true and you should let me be.”

“Or,” David counters. “It says that we have to do something about it immediately.”

“Why?” Matteo mumbles. “Why does it matter so much?”

David blinks at Matteo, slightly bemused, before falling back onto the bed and leaning his head into Matteo’s pillow. It’s not until Matteo meets his gaze that David whispers, “It’s all of them.”

Matteo’s brows furrow. “What?”

David reaches out a hand to cup the side of Matteo’s face – the touch is warm and familiar. “Matteo,” he says, voice serious. “We can’t go anywhere with you because you’ve vetoed every place in Berlin ever.”

Matteo’s brows furrow deeper into a scowl. “Untrue.”

David’s hand dramatically rises from where it was on Matteo’s face in an exhausted gesture. “It certainly _feels_ that way.” He scoots back a bit, raising an eyebrow. “When was the last time we went out together?”

“Last week,” Matteo replies immediately. David shakes his head.

“Me helping you take out the trash does not count, and I think you know that.”

Matteo rolls his eyes and adjusts his position so that he’s on his back, now staring at the ceiling. “There’s too much history, David,” he confesses quietly, the words leaving him almost physically dropping in temperature. “Any place we go, I think of _something_ he said to me. Something he promised me. Moments that are – fucking hard to let go of,” he rubs at his forehead tiredly. “I don’t – see, I – it’s just hard, alright? He was – mine, for a long time, and suddenly he decides I’m not good enough anymore, and—”

“Stop,” David interrupts, holding up a hand. “You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” Matteo raises an eyebrow. “Can you explain to me why _else_ he’d break up with me out of the blue?”

David shrugs his shoulders, making it look easy in the position he’s currently laying in, as he does most things. “Sometimes people fall out of love, Matteo,” he says softly, and Matteo’s chest hollows further. “And there’s not – a big moment, you know, no big reveal, no defining realization, sometimes things aren’t meant to be, and that’s _fine_ ,” he insists. “You can’t ask him to love you if he doesn’t anymore, Matteo.”

Matteo feels his eyes begin to sting. David has a tendency of being honest to a fault, and it perhaps feels cruel, in the moment, but it’s not – his tone of voice is careful, it’s melodic, it’s like he’s carrying Matteo through the sentence and making sure he doesn’t trip over any of it, doesn’t fall through before the end. He’s _right_ , of course he’s right, David’s always right, but Matteo can’t help but believe it’s _him_ , it’s on him, it’s on the person that he is and has always been that made – The Man leave him, not love him.

“I can’t tell you it wasn’t about you,” David continues softly, almost as if he’d heard Matteo’s private thoughts. “Because break-ups are usually about the people involved. But I can assure you – and I need you to look at me when I say this, alright—” David reaches over and softly presses a hand to his cheek, gently turning his gaze. “I can assure you that whatever it was had nothing to do with your _worth_ ,” he raises both of his eyebrows. “I know you saw years and years for the both of you but holy shit, Matteo Florenzi, he should _be_ so fucking lucky,” David snorts. “To have someone like _you_ at his side for so long. Not the other way around. And don’t you forget it, you mongoose.”

The stinging in Matteo’s eyes turns into unshed tears, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips now. “Mongrel, I think you mean.”

“I said what I said,” David deadpans. “I feel like ‘mongoose’ hits home a lot more than ‘mongrel’. You ever seen a mongoose?”

“Not personally.”

“You should be insulted,” David teases, and Matteo laughs once, and it’s like a pressure relieves itself from his chest. David tugs on Matteo’s shirt, looking at him expectantly. “Let’s go.”

Matteo sighs. “I appreciate what you’re saying, David, I just – I don’t know.”

“Make a list of every place you feel like you can’t go to anymore,” David says, standing from the bed and picking through the pile of dirty clothes Matteo’s left on the floor. “And we’re going to go to every single one, and we’re going to fix it.”

Matteo sits up, watching David incredulously. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”

David pauses with a sweater in one hand and a sock in another, holding both of his arms out with a smirk. “We’re just gonna make _better_ memories.”

Matteo purses his lips. “Are you also going to take my virginity in an abandoned hospital?”

David glares at Matteo. “That never happened.”

“It could have.”

“I would have been worried for weeks,” David drops the sock he’s holding and begins picking at more clothes underneath him. “That’s an unsanitary way to spend your time at an abandoned hospital.”

“As opposed to what we do, which is – smoke weed inside of it.”

“With _clothes_ on,” David scoffs. “When have we ever smoked weed in the nude?” David pauses, looking pensive, before he looks back at Matteo. “Don’t bring that idea up in front of Carlos.”

Matteo holds up both of his hands in a silent promise. They both know that’d end up in a weird, experimental session neither of them want to get into.

He looks up at the stain he’s been looking at the wall, giving himself one more chance to try and figure it out. It’s so far up – through all the shapes and the imagination, he hasn’t been able to figure out what _caused_ the stain, what could have faded such an unsightly yellow to such a subtle gray.

Matteo comes to when a sweater hits his face.

“ _Why_.”

“Did you hear what I said?” David asks, and Matteo doesn’t bother to lie. “What were you looking at?” David follows where Matteo’s gaze had been, searching so intensely his brows furrow and his nose scrunches ever so slightly. It’s cute, objectively.

“That stain on the wall,” Matteo points it out for him, and David looks further up to find it. “I can’t figure out what made it.”

David walks over to the bed and drops some pants in front of Matteo too, eyes still on the stain. “Not a stain,” he says, and Matteo raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Paint’s coming off,” David explains, tip-toeing just enough so that he can scratch the area around the gray. Sure enough, he peels some yellow off from the wall and levels himself back, throwing some of the flakes at Matteo. The blob is a little more symmetrical now. “Seems like the room was gray before someone murdered it with yellow.”

“Huh,” Matteo dusts the flakes off of him thoughtfully. “Hm.”

David looks bemusedly at Matteo for a moment, before sighing and walking towards the door. “Five minutes,” he calls back. “Be ready in five minutes, and we’re off.”

The door closes behind him, not another word said.

\--

It’s still morning, and the sun’s beating down on Matteo like it’s personally attacking him.

David laughed for about two minutes straight at how long Matteo had to squint for, and has since spent the rest of their walk to the hospital hissing at him like a vampire, asking him if he’d mind if David stops for some garlic on the way, afraid Matteo might attack him once they reach a secluded area with no witnesses. Matteo’s filing this one away for later, only because the sun is making it a little hard to think of a witty comeback.

When they reach the hospital, a small part of whatever’s left in Matteo’s chest sinks into his stomach – he looks up and up and up, at a building that’s been abandoned and left to rot, to figure it out on its own, and he feels a little redundant, standing in front of it.

He can feel David’s gaze on him, thoughtful as ever. “You didn’t… _really_ lose your virginity here, right?”

Matteo looks over at David, then smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

David glares. Matteo relents, shaking his head.

“You know all the – graffiti on the wall,” Matteo explains, and of course David does. Oftentimes he’s drawn ridiculous things on the walls, as well, at the behest of the rest of them. “We – every time we came here, I guess, just to, I don’t know, get away, we’d add a mark to the corner of a wall,” Matteo’s playing with his hands as he explains this. “See how many times we’d been here. It’s – silly, but it felt like one day we might be able to fill that wall, you know?”

David frowns. “Walls are pretty big here.”

“Yeah,” Matteo snorts. “I know.”

David hums and gestures towards the decaying entrance. “Show me.”

Matteo shakes his head. “No.”

“Hey,” David reaches out to squeeze Matteo’s elbow in a reassuring gesture, and Matteo hates how easily it _works_ , how reflexively his body reacts to the touch. He remembers when they were seven years old, and David reached out and squeezed Matteo’s shoulder when he whispered to him he thought his parents were going to get a divorce, publicly, in the playground, and how it meant more to him than a hug could at the moment. It was private, quiet, and supportive – indicative of everything David is. “I’m not gonna make you do it if you don’t want to, alright? But – it might help,” he says. “I might help.”

Matteo searches David’s gaze for _something_ , anything, to help him understand his _patience_ , his kindness, his sympathy. He finds, as he usually does, no answers – he finds his best friend’s expression, every nook and cranny of it explored tirelessly by Matteo already, finds the same sincerity in his eyes he always does.

He nods once and gestures for his best friend to follow, pocketing his hands in his hoodie before walking purposefully inside the hospital.

The inside, structurally, is very much the same as the outside. It’s old and it’s not very sound – there are visible cracks on the wall that Matteo swears they will rip in half one of these days and there is soot and garbage on the ground left behind by people too unpreoccupied with what this place used to be – or could have been – to care. 

Outside of that, however, the walls are lined with art – art of all kinds, art of all styles. Artists have made the walls of this place their canvas, and the expression in every room is bursting with color, moods, _stories_. Jonas suggested they get high here for the first time in high school, after hearing it from some boys in his class – they said the experience of it is _insane_ , in a place with such a diverse scheme. None of them knew what that meant in terms of an abandoned hospital, but the second they walked in for the first time, they would never forget.

Matteo’s asked David why he doesn’t paint a larger mural over one of the older ones on the walls, and David’s explained to Matteo time and time again there’s a silent respect amongst artists in this place that doesn’t allow him to. No matter how old the piece, David insists there must have been a story behind every one, and he’d never disrespect another artist by painting over what they had to say.

Not that there isn’t the usual toilet humor art, of course – a couple of dicks drawn here, some piss words written there, but weirdly enough, never over one of the larger murals, nor one of the more emotional drawings. There’s a particular drawing somewhere in the second floor, of a man eating a flower with sweat beading down his forehead that Matteo’s never understood, not for a second, but even then, any dicks or foul language’s been designated to the blank spaces around it, not over it, not even adjacent to it. Just – separately.

It’s a sort of respect Matteo doesn’t understand but can quietly appreciate, one that David can talk to him for hours about but he’ll never truly connect to it the same way David does. And this is why, although they do bring the rest of the boys around here to smoke once in a while, they, too, find themselves alone here often, coming up with stories for the art that they see, wondering about the artist, about what they were trying to say. Were they suffering? Were they calling for help? Or were they desperately, hopelessly happy, and wanting to share that with whatever world found itself in such a dull space?

There’s a risk, climbing the stairs of this place. They’re not falling apart, not really, but there are times Matteo swear the concrete beneath their feet _creaks_ , and concrete is not meant to creak. David always tells him it’s in his head, and he might be right, but that doesn’t stop him from panicking, at least a little bit, every time they climb the stairs, ignoring the broken and, interestingly, missing elevators.

Matteo leads David to the fourth floor, to a room where one large window is missing, the wind from outside aiding their comfort. This room is filled with hearts – almost as if it was designated for hearts and hearts only, red and pink and green and yellow, all different shapes and sizes. There are names inscribed in some of the hearts, others are simply initials, but the energy this room gives off is one of incredible devotion, and it hits Matteo like a ton of bricks.

Biting the inside of his cheek in order to keep himself together, Matteo gestures towards the edge of the wall where the large window nearly eclipses the rest of the concrete around it. There are a few hearts here and there on this wall, but mostly people have been busy filling out the walls that aren’t overshadowed by a window without a glass that could, potentially, lead to certain death with a misstep.

Which is why, when Matteo and The Man came up here, they’d chosen the edge of this wall instead of any of the other ones to mark off every time they were here together. It felt less intrusive and more personal, that way.

David leans down and examines the black markings. There’s about twenty of them in total, despite the fact that he’s probably been here many more times with David alone, but they all feel like a different, tiny stab to the chest. David reaches out and rubs his thumb over them, almost like he’s trying to see if they’ll smudge after all of this time – they don’t.

David hums and reaches into his own hoodie, pulling out a bright green sharpie. He uncaps it, but before he can do anything, Matteo steps forward. “What are you doing?”

David looks up at him. “I thought there’d be more,” he says to Matteo, which doesn’t answer Matteo’s question, but it also does, in a way.

“They were – special occasions,” he tries lamely, and David doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, he looks back at the markings and, in one swift motion, draws an infinity symbol over all of them, the particular shade of green contrasting the black brightly, almost beautifully. Matteo doesn’t feel – angry. A little sad, maybe, but mostly confused.

“That’s a lie,” Matteo says softly. “Could have been, but it’s not true.”

David shakes his head as he finishes filling out a second coat on the symbol, then leans forward some more. Inside one of the loops, David writes a ‘D’, and inside the other, he writes an ‘M’.

“Now it is,” David says, placing the cap back onto the sharpie and standing up. Matteo frowns down at it. Their initials, he realizes. He looks at David quizzically, who shrugs. “Hey, you weren’t sure of forever with him. But you’re sure of it with me, right?”

Matteo can’t help but smile. He’s not wrong. Forever with David has always been inevitable, ever since they met. The circumstances might have been different, long ago, but they’ve always been the same people, they’ve always had the same relationship, and it’s always been bigger than the both of them. Matteo can’t think of a future that doesn’t include David, and if a future without him _is_ ever promised to him, Matteo can’t think it’d look anything but bleak.

“Right,” Matteo says, holding out a fist. David grins and meets Matteo’s fist with his own. It’s a simple gesture, might even look silly outside of them, but it’s theirs since childhood, and it says a lot of things. “Forever’s a long time, though.”

“Eh,” David shrugs. “We’ll build up to it just fine. Best things in life take time, after all.” He takes his hand back and walks out of the room, calling out to Matteo to follow. And Matteo does, dutifully, as always.

They reach a half-wall, where part of the floor either collapsed or was never finished, and they look over it as they’ve done so many times. They’re still not sure what’s down there – it goes down and down and down, past all of the floors and then some, all of it encased by a half-wall on a respective floor. They often throw rocks down to try and hear just how far they fall, but have yet to hear anything that lets them know definitively if it’s worth checking out. As far as both of them can tell, they drop rocks down into oblivion and, on that note, there happens to be an entrance to oblivion in Berlin.

David’s already picked out a rock, handing it to Matteo. “You first,” he says. “Maybe this time will be the time we hear something.”

“It’s just getting sucked into a black hole,” Matteo counters, still holding up the rock over the wall. “We know this.”

“Do it, coward,” David pushes, and Matteo laughs and lets the rock fall.

They both lean forward a little more, eager to hear it hit something. They wait, and wait, and wait.

And nothing.

They both sigh longingly.

“Your turn,” Matteo states, looking around for a loose rock. He finds one – smooth around the edges and bigger than the one David had handed Matteo – and he hands it to his best friend.

David takes it, examines the rock.

“You’re doing The Lord’s work,” David tells the rock, then holds it to Matteo’s face expectantly.

Matteo sighs. “What do you want me to say to it?”

“It’s sacrificing itself for the exploration,” David explains. “Give it a pep talk.”

“The other one did, too,” Matteo points out. “That one didn’t get a pep talk.”

David’s expression darkens. “That one knows what it did.”

Matteo’s stomach bubbles out a laugh at David’s antics as he shakes his head. “We’ll make sure the kids are taken care of,” he decides to say to the rock, which is inanimate and says absolutely nothing back to him, but David’s responding grin is enough to make Matteo feel like he’s accomplished something.

David holds up the rock, as high as he can over the half-wall, then, after taking a deep, dramatic breath, he lets it drop.

They wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Matteo can feel both of them begin to give up, when suddenly—

_Thunk_.

The echo is small and quiet and barely there, but it’s _there,_ clear as day.

They look at each other, shocked.

“There’s a fucking _bottom_ ,” David gasps, and Matteo’s eyes widen as the realization hits him, too.

“There’s a fucking bottom,” Matteo repeats, and they both look back down, for very little reason, Matteo assumes, considering they probably won’t see anything _new_ , but the excitement of finally hearing one of their rocks hit a bottom propels them forward anyway.

“I mean…” Matteo looks over at David, brow raised.

David raises an eyebrow right back. “Yeah, I mean…”

“We have to.”

“We _have_ to.”

“The rock, you know.”

“It gave its life for this,” David agrees, stepping back from the half-wall and stepping towards Matteo, excitedly tugging on his hoodie. “Oblivion is no more, Matteo.” A small cackle escapes him as he pushes past Matteo and towards the stairs. He spares Matteo a backwards glance, eyebrows raised in a challenging expression. “You coming?”

Matteo scoffs. “Am I _coming_ , he asks,” he replies, catching up to him as quickly as possible. “You realize we’re about to either meet our maker or catch some really funky disease if we do this, right?”

David clicks his tongue. “I think you might have already caught something,” he says, opening the door to the stairs. “Using the word ‘funky’ unironically? An underlying symptom for something much worse.”

Matteo walks through the door, rolling his eyes. “Which is?”

David closes the door behind them and pats him on the back as he makes his way down the stairs. “Being an asshole.”

Matteo snorts, following David downward. “I’m afraid to say it seems we’ve both caught that one a long time ago, buddy.”

“ _Buddy_ ,” David laughs. “That’s such an asshole thing to say.”

Matteo flicks at David’s head from behind with his fingers, and David only laughs in return.

When they reach the first floor, it’s a little tricky, trying to find a way to the Bottom. Now that they know the Bottom isn’t oblivion – i.e., it’s not so ridiculously underground they might find themselves stuck there for the rest of eternity – it’s the first time they’ve actively _looked_ for a way there. The stairs they usually take stop at the first floor, and the only conclusion they can draw from this is that maybe, whatever’s at the Bottom would have only been able to be reached through the elevators, which seems like a safety hazard.

“Maybe that’s why it was abandoned,” David suggests when Matteo brings this up, and he laughs. “Just bad architectural planning altogether.”

“If we find bones or something at the Bottom,” Matteo says. “I will die.”

“Thus becoming one with the rest of the bones,” David replies dramatically, opening another door that leads them nowhere. “It’s been your fate all along.”

Matteo sighs. “Some drunk dude calls me boney _once_.”

“Pure bones, you are,” David teases. “Maybe they’ll be distant cousins of yours. You can catch up.”

Matteo shakes his head. “I don’t _want_ to catch up. I don’t want to find bones down there, family or otherwise.”

“I get it, family’s tricky,” David says, then crosses his arms over his chest and sighs loudly. “Not that it’ll matter if we can’t find how the hell to get down there.”

Matteo gestures towards the elevator shaft. “We can climb down.”

David looks at him, baffled. “Okay, Indiana Jones. You think you have the upper body strength to climb back up?”

Matteo looks at his arms. He does not, but he’s not going to give David the satisfaction of being right.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Matteo sighs. “Maybe we should go outside, start from a new perspective.”

David’s expression brightens, then, suddenly. “Outside!” he exclaims. “Fuck, yes, there’s like – I thought it was maybe an outhouse or something, but maybe it’s an entrance they just – clumsily added after the fact.” A pause. “Again, this whole building? Architecturally a severe failure.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Matteo agrees.

“It really doesn’t,” David practically skips towards the other end of the hospital. “Outside we go!”

They walk past a couple of more murals that have withstood the test of time – Matteo’s yet to see a new one anywhere on the first floor, and so his sense of direction relies heavily on which mural is where – until they find their way to what Matteo’s sure used to be an emergency exit of some sort. The door is off its hinges, laid vertically against the wall, making it easy for David and Matteo to walk through the what for all intents and purposes is now a hole in the wall and back outside.

David raises a hand to his face as a makeshift visor, looking around for a second, before pointing a bit west. “There,” he says, and Matteo looks over. Sure enough, near the rear of what used to be this architectural nightmare of a hospital, there’s a small building that _could_ be an outhouse, but could also be their way to the Bottom. It’s not large – it’s got a couple of small windows around the four walls, though they all seem to be so dirtied up it might be impossible to look through them, and it’s not so far from the main building that it’s crazy to think it leads underneath it, the same way a cellar would.

“Alright,” Matteo says, nodding at David. “Let’s do it.”

David excitedly leads them towards the building, making a futile attempt to look through the dirtied windows. He purses his lips for a moment, thoughtfully, the way he’s done his entire life, then leads Matteo towards the door, which is still intact and closed. They look at each other.

“Could be locked,” David says. Matteo shrugs.

“Could be,” he agrees, but he reaches over and grabs at the handle, pulling it towards him.

It’s locked.

“Fuck,” David sighs, running a hand through his hair. “So close.”

“Hang on,” Matteo mutters, trying it again. It feels like the door’s trying to give way this time. “I think it’s just stuck,” he grunts, pulling a little harder. He raises a foot and presses it against the wall beside the door, using both hands now to try and pull it open. There’s a force he didn’t know he had inside him being used, almost like his body knows he _needs_ this, he needs something different, he needs to know what’s in there and if it’ll lead him to the Bottom. This place is burning with a dozen different memories he’d rather forget, and the idea that there’s something else here, something different, something he can share with someone he will never, _ever_ forget is somehow giving him the strength and determination to try and open this fucking door.

And he does. It takes him a minute, or maybe two, who’s counting, really, (David is, dramatically), but it eventually gives way, and it groans in protest as Matteo pulls it backward and even when David steps in to help, but it _opens_ , and suddenly they’re staring at a new memory right in the face.

And it’s – incredibly dark.

“I’m getting some Pacific Rim vibes from what we’re gonna find down there,” David says, and Matteo shakes his head. “Good thing we’re probably drift compatible.”

“We don’t have to go,” Matteo reminds him.

David looks at him, amused. “Are you kidding? Our entire lives have led up to this. We are going.”

Matteo pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight as David does the same. They illuminate outlines of what look to be some chairs from where they stand, and then, after a silent agreement, they both walk inside.

The place is – dirty. It seems to have been kept locked tight, so there’s not much in the way of dirt here, but there’s dust covering the furniture (some chairs, a coffee table, and a couple of end tables) and some spiders have seem to have made their home in the corners of the room, some directly on the chairs that have presumably not been sat on for a very long time.

David points out a small glass window on one of the walls. “Doctor’s office?” he guesses, and Matteo shrugs.

“Maybe,” he walks over to the door at the end of the northern wall, inspecting it. It’s a plain door, and there’s a sign hanging over it that’s a little hard to read now, the words mostly faded with time. Matteo uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe some of the dust off the sign, attempting to read it, anyway.

“ _Belongings_ ,” he reads out loud. “That’s all I got.”

David walks up to him and points his own light onto the signs. “ _Leave your belongings_ ,” he reads, then shakes his head. “The rest is unreadable.”

Matteo looks at David, eyebrow raised. “Should we follow instructions?”

David shakes his head. “Fuck authority,” he says, then reaches for the knob and turns it.

It’s not locked, this time. In fact, it opens so easily Matteo wonders if there _has_ been people in here before, and if maybe they’ve found another entrance. Either way, they don’t spend much time wondering – they walk inside to find a hallway, two rooms on either side of them that look like they might have been offices at one point, then continue down to find—

A flight of stairs.

“And boom goes the dynamite,” David says, _actually_ , out loud, and Matteo groans.

“You had the chance to say something _so cool_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, that was the coolest shit I’ve ever said,” he grins cheekily at Matteo, then, without another word, begins walking down the flight of stairs.

“Jesus,” Matteo mutters, and follows, because God knows if David jumped off a fucking bridge, Matteo wouldn’t be far behind him, either.

Their phones only illuminate so much, but from what they can see there are some flyers taped on the walls around the stairs that have lost their color, some of them torn slightly, but they’re mostly flyers about _wellness awareness_ and some sort of therapy Matteo can’t make out the name of.

They reach the bottom, at some point, and when they do, it’s – not what they expected at all.

It’s a large room, large than they thought the Bottom was going to be, but it’s to be expected: it’s a _pool_. A large, empty, abandoned pool, doors to what Matteo can only assume are locker rooms missing and cobwebs decorating the place like it’s Halloween, but it’s a pool _underground_ , underneath a _hospital_ , and Matteo’s unsure of what that means.

“What…the fuck,” David speaks first, looking around with his flashlight.

Matteo’s skimming the walls with his own flashlight, trying to find a light switch of some sort, in case, by some miracle, this place still has working electricity. He notices, as he does so, that there’s hardly any graffiti or art here – a blank canvas, almost, contrasting the colorful and crowded walls in the hospital above. He says as much to David, who only hums in reply, obviously busy doing his own exploring.

When Matteo makes it near the locker rooms, he finds a light switch – tries it, and, unsurprisingly, nothing happens.

“Hey,” David calls out, and Matteo turns to where the source of his phone flashlight is. Matteo can see the outline of David waving. “Check it out!”

Before Matteo can do such a thing, David’s shouting, “Let there be light!” and there’s a loud noise that echoes throughout the pool – and suddenly, the lights around them come on, one by one, slowly – almost as if they’re groggy from lack of use. 

Matteo looks at David, turning off the flashlight on his phone. “This place makes no fucking sense.”

David nods, doing the same with his phone, walking over to Matteo. “I wonder if they outsourced this or something,” he says, looking around. “Why else would the power still work here and not at the hospital?”

Matteo shrugs. “Looks a lot more well-kept than the hospital,” he points out. “Could be.”

“Check it out,” David points towards the opposite wall, and Matteo’s gaze follows. “Elevators.”

Matteo laughs out loud. Sure enough, there are two empty elevator slots on the wall, no doubt leading back up to the hospital as they’d both imagined. He looks at David and shakes his head. “Terrible design plan.”

David walks over towards the empty pool and kneels down beside it, grabbing the edges and sliding down inside. For a second, Matteo’s stomach drops, as it looks like he’s been consumed, but then he continues to walk, and he’s in Matteo’s line of sight again, and it’s okay.

“Look up!” David says, and Matteo does so. He sees – the hole. The hole they’ve been throwing rocks down for years and years and years, right in the middle of the pool, right where oblivion was meant to be. He wonders how, then, they never heard a single one of their rocks hit the ground – were they too far away? Were they not paying enough attention?

“Matteo!” David snaps him out of it, and Matteo looks over at David, who is looking at—

An entire rack of towels, fallen over and onto the floor. The rack seems to have fallen to the left of the towels, and the rest of them seem to have scattered around them – they may have been white, at some point, but they’re a little off-white now, but that’s not what David’s asking Matteo to look at, is it?

No, David’s asking Matteo to look at the collection of rocks piled up on the towels, almost _perfectly_ , all different shapes and sizes. Most of them are pebbles, because that’s usually what he and David could find around the hospital, but they’re all _there_ – safely landed on a pile of soft material that, if it were to make any noise, would not travel as far as they were.

“Holy shit,” Matteo replies in disbelief. He, too, makes his way into the empty pool, walking over to the edge David’s standing near, in order to get a closer look at the accidental display they’d created. “That’s just fucking impossible.”

“Right?” David looks up at the hole in the ceiling, then back down at the towel. “We would have had to be sending it down the same trajectory every single time, and I don’t think we could have done that, not even on fucking purpose.”

“Looks like the last one hit the rack,” he points out the lonely, smooth rock, the outlier of the pile. “Maybe we should have thought about pep talks as an option a long time ago.”

“This was definitely oblivion once,” David says matter-of-factly. “Someone’s just fucking with us now.”

Matteo hums, reaching into David’s hoodie to grab the sharpie he’d stored away earlier. David looks at him, puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

Matteo gestures around them. “Blank canvas,” he reminds David. “We could start something here. _You_ , specifically, since my stick figures often look like dicks, but still.”

David chuckles. “And what kind of masterpiece do you expect us to make down here with a single green sharpie?”

Matteo shrugs. “Doesn’t need to start _out_ a masterpiece. Nothing ever starts out a masterpiece, right?”

“You got a point there, Florenzi,” he hums, walking over to Matteo and taking his sharpie back. “Let’s keep it simple for now, yeah?” He walks over to the side of the pool and, right on the dirty tile, draws the same infinity symbol he’d drawn upstairs, complete with their initials inside the loops. David looks back at Matteo and grins. “Just letting them know who’s been here, exactly.”

“I guess you could make that into something,” Matteo huffs, amused.

David shakes his head. “I’ll leave that as it is,” he says. “We can come back some other day, I’ll make something bigger. Better. More meaningful.”

Matteo feels both his expression and his smile soften at the way David’s eyes gleam as he speaks, the wheels in his head visibly turning with ideas. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely.”

David looks at Matteo. “We found oblivion and we’ve survived it, Matteo,” he announces ceremoniously, gesturing around them. His words echo off the wall with surprising vibrancy. “Show me someone who says there’s something we can’t do now, and I’ll show you a liar.”

“Oblivion is an abandoned pool in Germany,” he says. “I’ll be sure to let the press know.”

“Let’s not,” he says. “We haven’t lived down the Nazi situation yet.”

Matteo snorts a surprised laugh. “Oh, my God.”

“Fuck the Nazis!” David yells again, and this time the reverberance of his shout is greater, so much so Matteo can feel it in his bones. “A pansexual and a gay survived oblivion, motherfuckers!”

Matteo laughs. “Yeah,” he calls, and then, a little louder, “ _Yeah_ , _fuck_ you Nazis!”

David laughs, too, and then they’re both laughing at the ridiculousness and absolute impossibility of the situation. Truly, fuck Nazis, but also, oblivion just ended up being an abandoned pool, and this changes Matteo’s perspective on so many, many things.

“What do you think the odds were that a towel rack fell over and muffled the sound our rocks made for years every time we threw one down?” David asks suddenly, looking back up at the ceiling.

“None,” Matteo admits. “No odds of that whatsoever.”

“Feels impossible,” David adds, and Matteo nods.

“Sure does.”

David looks at Matteo. “Same way getting over someone feels impossible.”

There’s a moment, where David’s expression looks so _sullen_ , so sunken down by the weight of this statement that Matteo wonders if he’s saying that _to_ him or _at_ him – he sees the way David’s eyes turn soft and lonely, as if he’s looking at something out of his reach, and Matteo wants to reach out and keep him company.

But it’s only a moment. The next moment, he’s smiling at Matteo, looking at him expectantly, and Matteo sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I guess I can’t argue with that logic,” he says, and David grins.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, running over to the edge of the pool and climbing out easily. “Before someone sees us and takes this place for their own.”

Matteo climbs out of the pool, as well. “And there’s the risk of scurvy.”

“What?” David laughs.

“If we got stuck here, you know.”

“ _What_?”

“That’s the – you know, the thing sailors caught—”

“We’re in a pool!” David continues to laugh. “ _What_?”

“It’s the deficiency of Vitamin C, which we could—”

“Fucking _scurvy_ , Matteo, _really_ —”

“I’m sorry, do _you_ have any loose oranges in your pockets we could eat if we get stuck in here?”

“I’m sure we’d die of _starvation_ before we died of _scurvy_ , Matteo.”

Matteo shrugs. “I disagree.”

David reaches the large light switch, still laughing, tears in his eyes. Matteo would do anything to keep hearing him laugh like this, seeing the light of his expression over everything else in the room. “You’re lucky I helped you out all those years on your exams,” he flips the switch, and the lights turn off again, one by one by one. “You’d still be stuck in high school without me.”

Matteo grunts in response, neither confirming or denying this fact. High school was a tough time for him; he’s not stupid, by any means, and these jokes are just that – jokes – but David was there when Matteo needed him the most. David was there when his dad left and he felt helpless in the face of a mother who had no idea how to do any of this on her own. David was there when Matteo touched rock bottom and tied himself to it, refusing to let go, enclosed in a den of weed and bad television. David was there when high school mattered very little to Matteo, and so did the end of it, and so you will hear no arguments from Matteo when David says he helped him through.

David’s already pulled out his phone’s flashlight, pointing it straight at Matteo’s face. Matteo squints and shields his eyes, trying to simultaneously glare. “Dick.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” David snickers, then turns and walks back up the stairs, leaving Matteo to follow.

\--

The next place on Matteo’s list is an arcade that’s been family-run for a long, long time – he and David used to spend most of their weekends here as children, always angling to get the largest prize on the prize stall. They never did, of course, as it’s impossible and completely rigged, but it was the _challenge_ that brought them joy, never the reward. It would be impossible for it to be the reward, of course, considering their reward was never the reward they’d wanted, but – the point still stands.

David asks Matteo on their way there, as he’s dusting off dirt from his hoodie, what exactly The Man could have ruined about that arcade. Matteo admits he’d suggested it for their first date, and The Man had won him one of the smaller prizes – a stuffed frog, small enough so that it fit into Matteo’s hand. David thinks about this, and asks about the frog. Matteo blushes when he admits he lost it.

David’s still laughing about this fact when they arrive – the arcade’s popular here, despite not being part of any sort of chain, and they almost run into three children on their way inside. David sighs at them, a little irritable, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips anyway at the sight of them being so excitable – Matteo doesn’t doubt he’s thinking the same thing as he is: that used to be them, once. They used to be the children who didn’t look to see where they were running because their excitement could not contain their eyesight.

They stop by the prize stall, staring up at their coveted, yet elusive prize – a large stuffed bear, almost as tall as the wall itself, hanging with a big, red bowtie around its neck, looking regal in the way only a stuffed bear with a red bowtie could. They both sigh.

“I know the rest of the guys aren’t here to help us with this endeavor,” David says, as they make their way towards the token machine. “But it’s imperative we try our best regardless.”

“Hey,” Matteo shrugs, pulling out his wallet. “It started with the two of us – it makes sense that it should end the same way.”

“Poetic,” David grins, holding out a hand to keep Matteo from pulling out money. “Don’t be stupid,” he says, pulling out money for himself. “I dragged you out. My treat.”

“For that thing?” Matteo raises an eyebrow, pointing at the bear. “Dude, it’s gonna take a couple of tries.”

“I have a plan,” David says, with his I-have-a-plan voice. Matteo blinks.

“Oh?”

“Yes, and it involves you being your boney self.”

“Unnecessary.”

“Noted. We,” he gestures between the both of them, as the machine turns their money into tokens. “Are going to _cheat_.”

Matteo laughs. “I mean, sure, but do you think they won’t notice?”

“I know they won’t,” David says. “Remember that summer Laura spent working here once? Well. See that camera over there?” David points to a camera, one of the many visible ones around them, near the skee-ball machines. Matteo nods in assent. “It’s meant to keep an eye on that corner, so they completely ignore the blind spot.”

Matteo frowns. “The blind spot?”

“Only one in the entire arcade,” he continues, scooping out the tokens from the machine. “That last skee-ball machine. The ugly one no one uses. No other camera picks it up, and since that camera picks _most_ of it up, they think they’re good to go.”

“What is ‘most’ of it?”

“Like, a third of it,” David explains, motioning Matteo to follow him towards the skee-ball machines casually. “So you’re gonna have to keep close to the wall.”

Matteo turns to him. “Wait, what?”

“You’re gonna climb up and just keep dropping those balls into the highest scores, alright? The quicker, the better.”

Matteo shakes his head. “People are going to _see_ , David.”

“That’s why I’ll be causing a distraction,” he waves away Matteo’s worry. “It’ll be great, don’t worry.”

“David,” Matteo warns. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

David raises an eyebrow at Matteo as they reach the skee-ball machine. “I would never,” he holds a hand to his chest as if to insinuate offense, then hands Matteo all of the tokens save for one. “Just a sec, though,” he inserts the token into the machine and waits for the balls to make their way down – he grabs one of them, then pockets it into his hoodie. “Might need this.”

“What?”

“Do your thing, and do it quickly, Florenzi,” he calls behind him as he quickly scurries away, leaving Matteo to the skee-ball machine. He stutters for a second, looking from David’s disappearing back to the machine, then makes the instant decision to follow instructions. For the bear, he guesses.

He begins grabbing as many as the balls as he can and stays close to the wall, making his way to the top and angling himself awkwardly in order to extend his arm under the covered railing and dropping them all into the 100 slots. Again, and again, and again, and Matteo’s doing it before the timer’s up and he has to insert some more tokens, while he’s still trying to look out for an employee.

He’s so caught up in this routine and hiding all of the tickets he possibly can beside him against the wall that he realizes only a couple of games in that – there’s a commotion over by the entrance of the play area. All around him, kids have left the games they’d been interested in and are now gathered in a crowd around the play place, looking upward. Matteo _knows_ this is David, he knows it is, and it’s probably part of David’s plan, but it’s a natural instinct of his, to worry about his friend either way. He doesn’t know whether or not to stop and go make sure he’s okay, or keep going to honor his memory.

Matteo’s positive he hears David’s voice yell out at that exact moment, “Yeah, but see, I forgot I’m afraid of heights!” and then Matteo’s sure David’s completely and totally fine, so he inserts another token.

He’s unsure of how long this goes on for. He’s collected an insane amount of tickets, insane enough so that they’re definitely starting to peak out from where he’s hiding them behind the machine, but it also means people are starting to lose interest in whatever commotion David’s caused in the play place – some kids start walking back into the arcade area, finding the games they’d left behind, others are heading towards the ticket eater.

“Shit,” Matteo curses under his breath, having only placed the last token into the slot. “Oh, fuck,” he looks over at the play place, where he can now see David being escorted out, though he looks more than happy to be.

He turns to look over and meets Matteo’s panicked gaze, who glances over at the employee that’s breaking off from the other one that’s escorting David outside now. He looks to be walking back towards the arcade area, and will most definitely be coming Matteo’s way at any moment.

Matteo’s not sure how David does it, but suddenly the ball he’d taken from the machine is rolling over past the employee, distracting him sufficiently enough. The employee follows the ball towards some shooter games, and it’s the time Matteo needs to dunk the rest of the balls into their 100 slots until the timer chimes, and he takes the tickets and bolts.

He passes the employee as he walks to the ticket eater, who’s holding the ball, looking puzzled, and simply nods at him casually, as if he’s not holding a massive amount of tickets in his arms. The employee’s confusion seems to deepen.

Matteo glances over towards the entrance, where David is finally being led outside, and he sighs loudly. If he’s lucky, he’d only been asked to leave and not banned forever – but if it’s the latter, well. This fucking endeavor has better had been worth it.

It takes him a while to untangle the tickets and feed them to the machine. He’s got curious kids looking at him like he’s hit the jackpot, only maybe they just didn’t hear it. Matteo’s nodding awkwardly as he feeds ticket strip after ticket strip into the machine, checking his phone for any messages from David.

Finally, he’s got his final count, and it’s – enough. _Barely_ , if you’ll excuse the pun. He lets out a deep breath and prints the receipt, staring at the total. This is it. This is finally it. They’d finally done it. Years and years of honorable challenge in this arcade, looking for the _one_ thing they couldn’t have, and all they had to do was cheat.

Quite a lesson, that.

He walks over to the prize stall and slaps the receipt down in front of the bored-looking employee standing behind it. She’s tall, her hair a bright pink and her name tag reads ‘Adele’. She glances at the receipt, then back up at Matteo, a little suspiciously. “Impressive.”

Matteo shrugs.

The girl looks like she wants to ask more questions, but there seems to be a silent battle inside her wrestling between giving a shit or not. The latter seems to win out, because she simply takes the receipt and holds it to the scanner.

“What’ll it be?” she deadpans.

“The bear,” Matteo says confidently, and the girl walks over to the bear and takes it off the rack – or, rather, _hugs_ it off the rack, putting it down. She sighs and stares at it for a moment, before hugging it again and awkwardly shoving it over the counter and towards Matteo, who hugs it instantly. It engulfs him, almost entirely, and then Adele asks him if he wants anything else with the few tickets he has left over.

Matteo eyes the small, stuffed frog in the corner. And for a moment, he considers it.

Then he squeezes the bear tighter to him, and says no.

David’s leaning against the wall outside when Matteo walks over to him, bear obstructing most of his vision. He does see, however, David’s absolute delight at the sight of this, which make all of this, this entire fucking thing, worth it.

“I couldn’t get it,” Matteo says as he stops in front of David with the bear, and David’s laugh is loud and boisterous.

“Holy shit, dude,” he reaches out to squeeze the bear. “It worked.”

“What did you _do_?” Matteo asks, setting the bear on the ground. “Are you banned for life?”

“I’m pretty sure twenty-somethings aren’t supposed to be on the play place,” he explains. “They weren’t chill with that. Then I pretended I had a fear of heights, so I was having trouble getting down. It was a true spectacle, you missed quite a show.”

Matteo shakes his head in disbelief. “And my other question?”

David shakes his head. “Just asked to leave,” he pauses. “Though we might do better not coming back here for a little while.”

Matteo grins. “Maybe this was _my_ plan all along.”

David gapes. “An evil genius,” he says, then plays with the bear’s red bowtie. He continues to play with it for a moment, before sighing loudly. “This feels wrong.”

Matteo tilts his head. “The bear?”

“The way we did it. Fun,” he points out. “But wrong.”

They both stare at the bear for a while.

“Should we…leave it?” Matteo offers, and David looks thoughtful.

“Would that be…weird?”

They’re both silent as they look at each other, trying to figure out the appropriate next move. Matteo’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, but he’s not sure anything’s gonna come out of it, not really.

“You know the rest of the guys will never believe us,” Matteo points out. “Not even a picture would satisfy their belief.”

David hums. “And maybe that’s what makes a great urban legend,” he says. “We just – won it, took it, and left it. They’ll be talking about it for years.”

Matteo sighs loudly. “David, you’re my best friend, and I love you, but holy crap, dude.”

David doesn’t say anything to that. He clears his throat and walks past Matteo to grab the bear and position it against the wall. He spends some time adjusting its bow tie, then some more fluffing up the rest of his – fur? And then finally turns to look at Matteo with a bright smile.

“It’ll make someone very happy.”

Matteo eyes the bear incredulously. “Maybe.”

“You never know,” David says, looking at the bear with a soft expression. “Someone might really, really need to see it when they’re walking by. I think seeing a large, stuffed bear kicking it outside of an arcade would make my day a little better.”

Matteo’s not looking at the bear anymore – he’s looking at David, searching his expression, always, always searching, and never, ever finding what he’s looking for. “Do you feel like you need it today?”

David looks at Matteo. “I’ve got you, dumbass,” he says, although his voice lacks the same animated quality it usually has in these moments. “I don’t need a bear.”

Matteo eyes him for a little longer, which seems to make David a little uncomfortable, so he backs off – if there’s something wrong, Matteo knows David’ll tell him. In due time. David’s never not told him anything – Matteo can’t think there’s anything he _couldn’t_ tell him, but then again, he’s not in David’s head. They can pretend to be, as much as they want, but there is nothing stopping David from holding back, if he wants to. And he’s allowed. He’s allowed. It doesn’t make it any easier, however, for Matteo, to know there may be a part of David he doesn’t know.

But he’s allowed, and so Matteo gives it time.

\--

There’s a place near the arcade that makes great kebaps, and has always been one of Matteo’s favorite places to go. There’s always a line, but it’s never as long as that one spot with all the tourists, which Matteo suggests they go to as a last-ditch attempt to avoid the place. David merely gives him a Look, and Matteo takes it as the rejection that it is.

The worst part about this place is that it always smells the same – so his senses kick in and do their job, remind him of every moment spent here, with no thought to whether it brings him pain or not. A lot of it does – he explains to David, in a sheepish manner, that this is the place where The Man first kissed him, without a care about who saw them; it still speaks to Matteo as one of the defining moments in not only their relationship, but his grounding in his sexuality.

But there are good memories, too. David and Matteo first came here with Jonas when it opened, the three of them fourteen-year-old idiots with a couple of euro to spend, finally. They talked for hours, about shit only fourteen-year-olds could spend hours talking about, and he remembers laughing so much his sides began to hurt. He remembers laughing so hard he forgot the world around him, the troubles, the sadness. He remembers David reaching out and squeezing his shoulder when they mentioned their parents, and remembers relaxing at the touch. He remembers his best friends, and the times spent with them, and it’s not all painful.

But nostalgia doesn’t discriminate, and so the squeeze of his heart hurts a little, anyway, and though he tries to hide it from David, it seems impossible. David looks at him, and suddenly a wave of determination washes over him so noticeably Matteo feels _residuals_ , and he reaches out and—

Holds Matteo’s hand.

This isn’t the first time they’ve held hands. In fact, it probably won’t be the last. It’s always been an innocent gesture, when they lace fingers: a quiet _I’ve got you_ , or a small question of _are you okay_ – it’s some sort of variation of David’s comforting elbow-gesture, but it’s a lot more personal, despite it being a lot more emphatic. They don’t always hold hands, but when they do, it _means_ something, and today, David squeezes his hand in the line for a kebap and says, _I’m right here_.

David will take his hand from here on out, and for the foreseeable future, Matteo’s sure, and lead him to places Matteo can’t imagine ever getting to alone. David’s hand feels like an arbiter in his, placating the war inside him like it was born to do so, and there are days – such as this one – when Matteo looks down at their interlaced hands and he thinks, _how do I let go_?

It’s not difficult. Relax the hand, extend the fingers, pull back.

But it’s like breaking away from a sense of peace that only comes to him once in a blue moon, and how do you divorce yourself from that without craving it again the next second, and again the next, and again and again and again the next?

They don’t hold hands often. But when they do, it’s both Matteo’s most absolute favorite thing, followed by the sense that it is, in fact, his least.

The warmth is normal. The shiver down his spine is new.

They don’t say anything else to each other from here to the front of the line, where they order their kebaps. They don’t say much else, either, when they still hold hands to the next place on the list, both of them silently aware that this place needn’t be on it anymore: David’s remarkable like that, or, rather, his influence is. Matteo feels childish, to think that all he needed was David’s hand in his to feel like the smell of that place was no match for his sensory memory. What could the smell of kebaps have against the feeling of David’s skin on his? What chance did it stand, really, against what his best friend’s palm could bring alive in him no other person or being or item has ever brought about so easily?

It was an unfair fight, all things considered.

\--

There’s a hill near Matteo’s childhood home that’s impossibly steep, and on the top of the hill they’ve found themselves seated, after Matteo quietly admitted this was probably the worst one for him. The boys come here often to talk, to smoke, to drink, to do really a little bit of everything; but when Matteo came here with The Man, he told Matteo, for the very first time, that he loved him. And in the moment, Matteo had felt it in his chest, the way you’re supposed to feel love for the first time, and had said it right back.

He’s unsure when the sun started setting, but they’re both looking over the horizon at it when Matteo turns to David. “You remember coming here when we were seven or eight or something?”

David snorts. “Rolling down the hill? Fuck yes,” he grins at Matteo. “We were _fearless_. I look down now and I think – holy crap, I could die.”

Matteo looks down, and the hill does seem to extend impossibly far. “We survived oblivion though, right?”

David laughs quietly. “You’re right.”

There’s a small pause, comfortable as anything.

“Thanks, by the way,” Matteo finally says, and David glances over at him. He shrugs.

“Don’t need it.”

“You do,” Matteo insists. “I don’t – you always do these kinds of things for me, ever since we were young, and I can’t – I don’t know how you can…just,” he shakes his head. “Keep doing these things for me.”

David looks pensive for a moment. “First,” he says, glancing at Matteo. “You’ve done just as much for me as I’ve done for you, thanks very much. Second,” he looks back at the horizon, squinting slightly. Matteo takes in the orange tint of the sun illuminating the right side of his face, like a sculpture. “You are my _best friend_ , asshole. My best friend. Do you know what that means? Not just, like, in general terms, but to _me_.”

Matteo doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.

“You are—” David pauses, breathes. “You are the first person I’ve come to for – everything and anything. You are the first person I came out to, both times, you are – every moment in my life. Do you realize that?” He looks at Matteo, who feels his brows furrow. “Do you realize I’ve known you more than half of my life? I’ve known you longer than I have _memories_ , Matteo. How fucking crazy is that?” he shakes his head, scoffing. “I wish – you could just _see_ it.”

Matteo’s frown deepens. “See what?”

“ _You_ , you dick,” David sighs, lacing his fingers together over his knees. One of his legs is bouncing restlessly. “Second grade, you punched a guy in the face because he kept making fun of my hair. You. Matteo Florenzi, the boy who would hardly ever swat a fucking fly. Fifth grade, you taught me—” David laughs. “You taught me how to _flirt_. You were smooth even as a fucking ten-year-old, and you didn’t care that—” He pauses. “You talk about me like I’m this – great fucking person, this fucking _fluke_ in your life, but if you took a second to step back to think about it, I think you’d see it. You’d see—”

Another pause. Matteo’s heart is in his throat.

“Have you ever seen – this happens maybe like, once a month, maybe once every other month, hell, maybe even rarer than that, but if you’re lucky, there’s about five minutes where you step outside during sunset and – the entire world has turned purple,” David says quietly. “It’s something to do with the way the clouds are positioned, where the sun’s hitting, the way the light is traveling at the moment, it’s gotta be this perfect alignment but it’s fucking – surreal,” he laughs. “And it’s this feeling of endlessness and impossibility. It feels – not wrong, but _alien_ , right, like one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever get to see in your whole life. You can stand there and let the light come onto you in waves, for however long it lasts. And – bear with me here, I know you like to roll your eyes when I get cheesy – for a moment, you feel bigger than the world. The entire world.

“ _That’s_ what you feel like to me. Like walking outside and seeing purple. You’re an impossibility and you are _breathtaking_ and it’s so sad that I have to sit here and see you lose your color sometimes, Matteo. So, yeah,” he nods, still not looking at Matteo. “Sometimes I – maybe do stupid shit to see you smile. To make you feel better. But you’ll forgive me if I refuse to deny the world this perfect, impossible alignment,” he looks over at Matteo, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not a fluke in your life, Matteo. And you’re not one in mine. We are just – the perfect alignment of clouds and light and the waves that travel through the sky, and we bathe this fucking world in purple.”

When The Man told Matteo he loved him, he felt it in his chest, where you’re supposed to feel love. So he’d said it back.

When David talks to him about this, he feels it all over.

He doesn’t think David means to do this. He’s not sure. David’s always been good with words, with expressing himself through long-winded metaphors and illustrative drawings. He’s always been _good_ at this, so good, in fact, it leaves Matteo wondering where it goes. Where do these words go, after they’re through with him?

And it’s – so easy, now, to see it. Imagine it. If he steps outside of himself in this very moment, listens to what David is saying, his heart stops lying. His understanding of the situation is incredibly poignant. Staring at the wall and feeling like he couldn’t go anywhere, feeling like this break-up was somehow his fault – it _was_. It was his fault. And he couldn’t see it, but The Man could, and he thinks a man on the moon could, even, and here, outside of himself, he _feels_ it.

Sometimes people fall in love, and there’s not a big moment, no big reveal, no defining realization. Sometimes things are meant to be, and that’s fine. And you can’t ask yourself not to love this person if you always, always have.

And he has.

Falling in love with David must have been a quiet process. It was in the in-between moments, maybe. A pause in their laughter. A linger in their touches. A lull in their conversations. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t showy, it wasn’t obvious; it was like listening to the crescendo of a song — slow and anticipatory, stomach bracing for impact, heart ready to skip a beat, the payoff brilliant and moving in a way nothing else can be.

It was the sky turning purple, and surviving oblivion.

“I’m not very good at this,” Matteo laughs once, quietly, and David looks at him, expression puzzled.

“What?”

“Words,” he clears his throat. “The way you are. But I think – I feel better now.”

David’s smile is small and rueful. “Good.”

“I don’t think I ever felt bad, actually,” Matteo continues. “Not about losing him. I felt bad that I knew exactly why I lost him, and I was so fucking scared to admit it. To do anything about it.”

David’s smile disappears, and it’s replaced with a confused frown. “What?”

“Second grade, you drew me a picture of us in the future with a dog,” he says. “You said, we’ll never need any more family than this, if it comes down to it.”

David rolls his eyes. “Sounds like me.”

“Fifth grade, you held my hand for the first time,” he whispers. “I taught you how to flirt, and the week after that, you held my hand through my first heartbreak. It was – misguided, and it was the rejection that hurt the most, but you held my hand and it’s still the best feeling in the world to me.”

David doesn’t look at Matteo. “I think we should stop.”

“I can’t compare you to purple skies, David, I don’t think like that, but if I think a little harder, you are – just about everything,” he finishes. “Everything.”

David swallows visibly, and he shakes his head. “I can’t do this anymore, Matteo, I’m—”

“And everything that you are, you are for yourself, and fuck if that isn’t my favorite thing about you.”

David starts to nervously wipe his palms on his jeans. “I need to tell you—”

“I love you.”

Matteo hears David’s breath hitch. “I know. But you should know—”

Matteo brings a hand to turn David’s gaze gently towards his, the same way he did this morning. Their eyes meet, and it feels different, but it feels the same. “You’re not listening, you mongoose. I _love_ you.”

David’s lips purse, and Matteo can see his eyes begin to well up with tears.

“I don’t want you to be confused.”

Matteo frowns. “What?”

“This,” David leans back a little. “You and me. I’m sorry I got – so grandiose for a moment there, but you’ve just been through a break-up, and I don’t – I can’t handle being your rebound, Matteo. I don’t even think our relationship can handle that.”

Matteo shakes his head. “You’re not,” Matteo laughs once, no humor in his tone. “You could never be. Everything else outside of you has always been an afterthought. The idea that you — you’re not.”

“I’m not sure that’s true right now.”

“Okay,” Matteo nods, because David needs time, and as always, Matteo is here to give it to him. “Okay. That’s fine. We can – wait,” he shrugs. “We can wait. Or this – _shift_ can be slow, if you want.”

David looks at him.

Matteo shrugs. “All the best things in life take time, right?”

David smiles softly, most likely at hearing his words from earlier echoed back at him.

“Forever,” David remembers, and Matteo nods.

“Forever with you has always been inevitable,” he admits to him for the first time out loud. “I think I know why, now.”

David presses his forehead to Matteo’s. Matteo nuzzles David’s nose, and it feels like they’re perfectly slotted together. Their hands find each other’s without a second thought, and they dance around the idea of pressing their lips together – but they don’t.

Not yet. Matteo doesn’t want to rush this. They have all the time in the world, don’t they? They have forever. They have infinity.

“Hey,” Matteo mutters. “You want to paint over my bedroom walls tomorrow?”

David laughs a little wetly, and squeezes Matteo’s hand. “Yes,” he replies, just as softly. “I’d like that very much.”

And around them, unbeknownst to them, the world turns purple.

**Author's Note:**

> i am on [tumblr](https://juilawicker.tumblr.com) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/eliotwaugh_), if you’re interested. tumblr’s where i post my prompts (there’s a bunch of tmtts bonus stuff there too if you’re interested) and twitter is where i rant about how stupid i was to choose writing as a hobby.
> 
> and once again, happy birthday to the lovely sarah, one of the greatest pals i’ve ever met and one of the most talented human beings to ever be created by like, two other human beings. i love you to the moon & back and hope to know you for many, many more birthdays.


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